Tempus Fugit
by malkavsdevoted
Summary: A troubled youth plagued by his powers must come to terms with the world and his place in it or be lost in the chaos that surrounds the X-Men. Rating may rise later due to violence content.
1. Why Monday?

Chapter I - Why Monday?

Of all the days for my life to change why did God choose a fucking Monday?

It began normally enough with the shrill trumpeting cry of the alarm knifing through my slumber. Reacting out of instinct I grabbed the offending clock and prepared to dash it against the wall. Perhaps I thought that once it died I could go back to sleep.

I was wrong.

The surge of adrenalin disrupted what little control I possess over my "abilities". Each second became an hour as the clock flew slowly from my hand towards the wall shared with Mother's room. Eyes only barely opened watched an almost motionless pigeon trying to fly past the window but the worst was yet to come.

Images ...debris tossed upon my perceptions by the ebb and flow of time burst into my mind's eye ...a bald sixteen year old boy stripping down for bed ...(Bald? That's me last night.) ...bedroom door creaking open well past midnight as Mother's worried sapphirine eyes watched me sleep ...the alarm exploding into the wall at bullet speeds ...(How can I do this?) ...my luggage packed and sitting on my bed in the midday sun ...(Why is my luggage packed? I'm not going anywhere!) ...Mother head down and crying on my bed a curtain of golden hair hiding her face ...(What's wrong?) ...then the images stopped as if a switch had been thrown.

Not a second later an explosion rang throughout the house as the clock met the wall. The pieces of my chess set had not yet stopped rattling when I sat bolt upright, a cold sweat beading on every inch of exposed skin. There, amidst my collection of wargames, lay a smoking crater nearly a foot across. Frantic footfalls - a pair of them - heralded the arrival of my Mother and little sister.

Mother burst into my room - Ana only a second behind - but they both asked the same question. In unison.

"Are you okay?"

They could be twins if not the difference in age. Both are small just barely five feet tall and maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. The same almost yellow locks, brilliant azure eyes, even the same angular elfin features graced both. Of course, neither bore more than passing resemblance to me.

"I'm fine." my words - soft, weary shades of my normal polished tones - didn't convince anyone.

"It happened again." Mother sounded disgustingly sure of herself.

What could I say? No normal teen could have left a smoking crater in his wall. No normal teen had fits like this. How many times had it happened now? Ten? Twelve times in the last two months? Ever since the accident...

"They're getting worse aren't they?"

My gaze wandered down to the bed in front of me. If I had hair I'd be hiding behind it right now.

Of course they're getting worse. This is the first time anything had actually happened since the initial incident. Whatever these abilities are they are getting stronger.

"You need help, Ryan." she had been singing this song for a month now "This isn't some problem you shoulder on and just deal with on your own."

Where am I supposed to go, Mother? They don't exactly have freak schools.

Ana quietly left because she remembered two key facts. One, the futility of arguing with me, and two, that we did have school today. The first day of school to be exact. Hence the alarm.

"I need to get ready for school."

Mother made a most unladylike noise. Whether it indicated disgust or surrender I'm not sure but I did need to get ready for school. Regardless of my distraction.

Once in my private bathroom a quick splash of chill water removed the sheen of nervous sweat. I paused there a moment as my face became clear in the mirror. No one would peg me as my Mother's son. Bald since birth with features that seemed carven from granite. The most startling thing are my eyes - molten golden irises limmed by a thin circle of crimson.

Even the parts of my body that didn't show in the mirror marked me apart from them. Half a foot on them but shorter than my uncles with a broad potent build. So different from the lithe dancer's physique so common in Mother's family. If my birth hadn't been captured on tape I would doubt our relation.

I don't have time for this!

Throwing on the clothes I had lain out the night before - charcoal high collar button up, black jeans, and matching work boots. Grabbing my Evanescence cap and shades on the way down I hit the dining room.

Eating my usual fare of Golden Grahams as swiftly as possible without choking I tried to tune out the females at the table. Ana's boy crazy chatter fell on deaf ears but ignoring Mother's stare was a trial. I had a lot of practice though.

Breakfast went quickly and before I knew it we were on the bus to school Mother's farewells ringing in our ears. The bus ride passed slowly as all bus rides did but uneventfully. At least till the bus dropped us off at the wrong school.

Do we look like special needs children? No, on second thougt, don't answer that.

The principal was nice enough to let us use the phone at least. After four hours of arguing the bus company finally sent someone for us. I thought that arriving at our proper school would spell the end of my troubles. At least for today.

Once again, I was wrong.

The prim, proper, and elderly secretary - the same one who, just a minute before, had given Ana her schedule and sent her happily on her way - told me the best news yet.

"You are not in the computer, Mr. Winters."

She seemed a little shocked at the line of expletives I let loose. Most of which are not suitable for repetion to anyone regardless of age.

"How can I not be in the computer? This is a public school and I am enrolled in the _Denver Public School System_ am I not?" I could hear my teeth grating.

Another minute of typing and she spoke in a smug self-satisfied tone "No, Mr. Winters, you are not. Your records have been transferred to Bayville High."

"Bayville High? Where the hell is that?"

The old bat smiled "Upstate New York."

If only looks could kill...

"Ryan Winters?"

What now?

Turning I saw the speaker standing in the office doorway a pop can forgotten in her hand. If it was under other circumstances I would have marveled at her divinity - and, believe me, a tall. leggy, unnaturally proportioned redhead deserves that title - but I am not in a meet-and- greet kind of mood.

"Hello. I'm Jean Grey." she extended one hand my way "A student at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youths."

Xavier Institute?

"And?" I asked leaving her hand hanging there.

Ms. Grey dropped her hand and sighed before asking "And what?"

"_And_..." my emphasis on that word went well onto the far side of mocking "why do I care what school you go to? Or who you are?"

Jean looked like she had swallowed a rotten egg. I rather doubt she got this rude of a reception too often. Poor baby. Well someone had to suffer for the day I've had.

"Regardless of how much you care there are two people in a conference room waiting to see you." she raised one perfect hand "And before you ask I'm with them as a favor to Professor Xavier."

Waiting for me?

"Does this have anything to do Aunt Tique's" I gestured rather rudely at the secretary not a foot away "inability to identify me as a student?"

The girl shook her head dispiritedly "Unfortunately, yes."

"Fine. Let's go."

I followed five steps behind my bag a comforting weight in my hand. Indeed it was the only normal thing about today.

In conference room 4 - the same conference room we used last year for Games Club - two people did sit discussing, of all things, fabrics.

The first one to notice me was a regal, statuesque African woman with hair like new fallen snow and a gown to match. Her companion, bound to a wheelchair but the obvious leader despite this, was a bald older man with an intense studious gaze.

"I am Professor Charles Xavier. This is Ororo Munroe. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Ryan. I have heard great things about you."

"Have you?" suspicion cooled the fires of my temper. Now was most definitely not the time to lose it.

At least not until I learned just what was going on.

Ororo spoke in a voice as exquisite as her visage "It has been brought to our attention that you possess certain extraordinary gifts. Gifts most uncommon."

The innuendo was clear - we know you're different.

Winters Rule 1 - Never admit to anything till they're showing the tape in court.

"I've been in gifted programs for years. They've never required unenrolling me from my school."

Xavier raised an eyebrow.

"I think we both know that these gifts are different. This gift sets you apart. Makes you unique."

Watching both of them carefully I replied "What kind of gifts?"

"Jean, would you close the door?" Ms. Munroe asked over my shoulder.

I heard the door click shut with an ominous air. Seconds later Jean sat down next to Ororo. Now all three watched me.

Professor Xavier spoke "Every few million years evolution tries it's hand at forging a new species. An advancement on the base creature. Within the last fifty years humanity has began to undergo just such a shift. You are one of these mutations as is everyone else in this room."

Mutations ...I don't like the sound of that. Makes it sound cancerous.

"We are here to extend an invitation to you to join my Institute. A place where you can be trained in the use of your abilities amongst other young people like yourself and Jean here. If you agree we will fly you there as soon as possible."

How could they know? Unless...

"What about my Mother? Don't you need her permission to make this offer?"

"We already have your Mother's permission. She gave it when she contacted Charles." Ororo answered.

Damn. I had hoped I was wrong.

Slipping into a chair on the opposing side of the table I remained quiet. Too much had been said already. By Xavier and by Mother.

"All the students are just like you." Jean didn't know when to end her sales pitch "You won't have to hide who you are or what you can do."

Not that I have admitted to anything yet.

Without warning I _heard_ the Professor's words in my head!

You do not have to, Mr. Winters. I am aware of your fits and the accident which started them. You are a mutant.

Panicked, the rest of the speech faded under a tidal wave of temporal debris. Fourty-eight hours of past, present, and future careened through my mind in a frozen instant. The fit, combined with my shock, sent me spiralling into darkness.

The last thing I heard was the voice of a goddess crying out "Charles!"

And then there was nothing.

Not more than an hour later I swam free of the shadows in my mind but I kept still when the voices became clear.

"The fits, Ms. Winters, are part of his mutation. He perceives localized temporal reality." The Professor, as before, sounded calm and in control.

Mother asked the inevitable question "Huh?"

"Imagine, if you would, two days worth of events and information compressed into a single moment. A single prescient flash showing past, present, and future of that area. There is little wonder that these flashes incompacitate him. I was caught up in the edges and I was unconscious for several minutes."

She was silent for a moment as if digesting the news before continuing "That doesn't explain the clock. Seeing the future doesn't leave craters on the walls."

Ororo's deific tones rang out in answer "We will not know the full extent of his abilities until we can test them. Till then..."

I don't like tests.

"Professor?" Ms. Grey asked from someplace startingly close.

"Yes, Jean?"

"He's awake."

Damn.

Cracking my eyelids open slightly I saw the concerned, if irritated, gaze of Jean not a foot away. A disgusted noise escaped me.

"You're still here?"

Jean sat up straight on her end of the sofa, lips pressed into a hard line. Apparently she hoped my nap had sweetened my disposition. No such luck.

"Ryan Morgan Winters!" Mother yelled in the 'mother's voice'. The one that says you are being an ass.

"No, Miranda. He has every right to be upset with us. I was hasty and made a poor decision." Xavier said one hand raised in her direction.

Raising myself up on the sofa ...(Must have brought me home.) ...my eyes locked onto the Professor's.

"Do not do that again, Xavier. I do not like you well enough to let you dance your way through the landscape of my mind." my words were obsidian - dark and jagged.

I appreciate my privacy.

The Professor set a coffee cup down on the oaken table "I must apologize, Ryan. It was not the wisest course of action."

"No kidding."

Mother shot me her look of motherly disapproval but I wasn't happy with her anyway. Ororo seemed to be hiding a smile. Jean just shook her head.

"You specialize in the training of mutants do you not, Xavier?"

"Yes."

I took a steadying breath "How likely is it that you can help me control my ...gifts?"

Ororo leaned over the table "He has aided many with problems as volatile as your own. If anyone can teach you control it is Charles."

"I appreciate your opinion, Ms. Munroe, but it is his I need." my gaze flickered to her briefly "Only he has seen exactly what goes on inside during these fits."

The older man leaned forward in his wheelchair "There is a very high probability that I can teach you to control your perceptions. I cannot say as to your other abilities since we do not yet know - for certain - what they may be."

Honest enough.

For a moment the thought of saying no lingered if only to piss off Mother but common sense quickly overcame that.

Stretching I climbed to my feet "When can we go then?"

"As soon as possible, Ryan. The school cannot run itself for long. I believe your luggage is already packed?"

Mother nodded, smiling but my next comment put a stop to that.

"Spending time with other mutants sounds educational and, maybe, they will know how to keep a secret."

She stiffened, eyes shiny, and promptly left the room.

Xavier and Ororo wore identical looks of neutrality. They understood both sides of this conflict all too well. Jean, on the other hand, did not.

"What kind of jerk are you?"

"With all due respect, Ms. Grey." I drew the pause out to make sure she paid attention "Shove it."

It did not have the effect I had intended. She followed me to my room where my luggage sat in the midday sun ...(The vision from this morning.) ...and preceded to yell at me with eyes flashing.

"She only told us to help you. Keeping your secret would have hurt you."

Is she this thick on purpose?

"Forgive me if I cannot like what she has done but it is my secret to tell! What if she had not gotten in touch with Xavier? What if, because of her good intentions, I had ended up in a laboratory somewhere with scientists trying to discover what makes me tick?" fists clenched I spat each word at her "Did you think about that?"

For the first time little Miss Perfect was at a loss for words.

"I am being asked to leave everything on a moments notice. My friends, my family, and my home. Only due to the immediate danger of my condition am I saying yes. So if you can think of one good reason why I shouldn't be a little pissy right I would like to hear it. If not - shut up and get out."

Ms. Grey stormed out with no small amount of hostility trailing after her.

Good going, Ryan. You haven't even been to the school yet and already you've pissed a student off royally. That's a record even for you.

Hefting my bags I started out the door towards Xavier. And the beginnings of a life beyond all imagining.

Author's Note: Mid 2nd season of Evolution and no, he will not be this much of an ass all the time. This just happened to be a very bad day.


	2. God Hates Me

Chapter II - God Hates Me

God must hate me. Why else would a big, blue, furry teddy bear be telling me to put on spandex?

"Why is this necessary, Dr. McCoy?" the trepidation in my voice was better suited to dealing with a wild animal than with fabrics.

Even if it is spandex.

A bespectacled Beast - did I forget to mention the teddy bear wears reading glasses? - faced me, clipboard in hand, an amused expression crossing his face before answering "I assure you that these tests are a necessary step in understanding your unique mutation."

"Not the tests." I growled holding up the bizarre blue jumpsuit "The spandex."

Hank McCoy blinked before letting loose a peal of genuine mirth "You sound much as my friend Logan did when he first came here. In time he came around despite his protestations. When in Rome, Mr. Winters, do as the Romans."

The Romans can go to hell.

How had my life come to this? Two days ago I was living with my mother and little sister with none of us having ever heard the word mutant outside of old sci-fi movies. Now I'm living in mutant high with people who wear spandex as part of their educational program. People who can fly, shoot bolts of energy, change shape, or any one of an apparently infinite number of incredible abilities.

Maybe the fits were just me losing my mind.

"Hurry, Mr.Winters. Professor Xavier is no doubt waiting for us at the Danger Room. It would be remiss of us to keep him so."

Sighing I ducked behind the screen and slipped into the jumpsuit - henceforth dubbed the X-suit.

Everything else around here is X-something. X-Men, X-gene, Professor Xavier...these people need to remember that there are 25 other letters in the alphabet.

"Do you require assistance?"

"No! I'm fine!"

I swear I heard the good doctor chuckling.

Leaving the safety of the screen - after taking several deep breaths - we left for my appointment. Beast made no comment about the suit, seemingly content to lead me to this "Danger Room".

I really, really don't like that name.

A few of the other students - Berserker, Bobby, and Rahne if memory serves me - passed us leaving an early morning session in our destination. Battered and bruised Berserker still managed to chuckle at the new guy in his first set of tights.

If that's the way you want to play it...

Not a sound passed my lips as the younger of the boys quietly formed a rather impressive ball of snow in his hand nor did I say anything when he crept up on the unsuspecting Berserker with it.

The strangled yell echoed throughout the entire mansion as that aforementioned snowball went down down the back of his X-suit. It was most definitely music to my ears.

"I'm gonna kill you, Drake!"

Dr. McCoy never looked back apparently used to far more disruptive displays.

I have to admit, after watching both Beserker chasing Bobby with bolts of electricity and Beast's indifference, this place is really beginning to worry me.

Shortly we reached a large metallic door - surprise, surprise it has an X on it - that my furry tour guide stopped at but gestured for me to continue. I didn't.

"What is the matter?"

How can this teddy bear sound so ...erudite?

"What can I expect of this 'Danger Room'?" Nothing good obviously otherwise it wouldn't be called that.

"Ah. That question. The only good answer is anything and everything." Beast raised a hand to forestall my rather predictable irritated response "That is too trite, I know, but bear with me. The Danger Room is a marvel of engineering and holographic technology made expressly to simulate any situation one might encounter as one of the X-Men."

"I am not an X-Man."

"Not yet." he smiled like it was a badge of honor.

I do not like where this is going. I've been hearing nothing but stories of the adventures of the X-Men since I got here and they do not sound happy. Or particularly sane for that matter.

My reply was interrupted by the intercom kicking on "That has yet to be decided upon, Hank. For now let us concentrate on discovering the nature of his mutation."

The Danger Room door slid open.

"If you would, Mr. Winters."

Against my better judgement I enterred the apparently empty cube of a room. It was huge - 50 yards across if not more - but featureless save for an enclosed booth set high on the northern wall. Overall it doesn't look dangerous.

But looks, as they say, can be decieving.

"I am in the control booth to overlook this test. Beast will be joining me shortly. Do your best. This might be a test but it is still dangerous if you don not take it seriously."

"Thank you, Yoda, for the inspiring speech." I wonder if my sarcasm can double as verbal assault under New York law?

"Good luck, my young friend."

At least Dr.McCoy sounds like he's enjoying himself.

"Brotherhood Simulation 1, commencing."

The room changed in the blink of an eye from empty cube to a construction site. Completely. Blue sky overhead, girder skeleton of a building looming, bricks and beams lying everywhere, even a soft breeze blew through the area obscuring the reality of the Danger Room.

A quick scan of the area revealed...no one. Not a single soul, real or holographic, could be seen.

Great but there is no way I'm walking into the maze of construction. Let them come to me. If the programmed Brotherhood is anything like the stories I have heard I will not have to wait long.

They did not disappoint.

Not two minutes had passed before the first simulated Brotherhood member came barreling out from behind a cement mixer _with an unused girder in his hands._

The size and strength...this must be the Blob.

"Look what we've got here, another X-geek!" Not the brightest sounding fellow but when you're holding a steel girder how bright do you need to be?

He hefted the girder with sickening flexing of muscle - if I called it a flabalanche do you think he'd hurt me? Any more than he's planning to, at least? - and began lumbering my way with earthshaking steps.

What in the hell is wrong with Professor Xavier to put me in here? I have fits not powers.

As the girder went up I thought for a moment that I was going to die but then I felt it again. The same sensation I had during the accident.

..._a sparkling rain of broken glass frozen in a moment's time...Cavalier caught in the air halfway off the bridge, front end still crumpling from the truck's impact...Mother and Anna screaming silently...even as I moved, oddly calm, perfectly throughout the eternal moment..._

Sidestepping the blow was easy. Standing next to the crater that could have been me the truth of my abilities began to grow clear.

Blob was eternally fighting the currents of temporal flow, battling against time. I was an eddy in the stream. A singularity wherein time became subjective to my perception.

Dodging every repeated blow of the girder I began to laugh.

Unfortunately, Lardo wasn't alone.

"Getting cocky, loser!"

The rapid fire words made it to me a second before the first blow. A second hit air as I threw myself hard to the right, tucking up and rolling to crouched position several yards away. Years of training at my uncle's hands came back instantly.

Hopefully, it will help.

Standing next to Blob was a young white haired man. Slim, sleek, and wearing white & silver spandex. Twitchy, too, like he had too much caffeine.

This must be Quicksilver. Two on one, now.

Quicksilver waved and seemed almost to disappear but I was ready for him this time. Aware now of the nature of his abilities his motion could still be seen by eyes watching through slow motion. Swifter than I - even after I entered my singularity - his punch caught me across the jaw but I was more irritated than hurt. His second attempt, on the other hand, fell into my waiting arms.

My right hand latched onto his suit just below the throat as I stepped up till the right halves of our bodies touched. His momentum bounced him off my set shoulder and a simple twist of my wrist flung him head over heels into a conveniently placed pile of bricks.

After Quicksilver went unconscious the room returned to a featureless metal cube.

"This session is over. Meet us in my office, Mr. Winters." came the Professor's authoritarian tones.

"Yes, almighty bald one."

After a quick stop to change I headed back up to the normal sections of the mansion. Every one of the younger students seemed to be out in the halls. All at the same time the new guy came through after his first session. How convenient.

Berserker, Bobby, Jubilee, Jamie, Rahne, Sam, and one or two others who's names I hadn't yet bothered to learn all milled about the central recreation area. From the mutterings I must have been a disappointment. Only a few bruises. Not much of a show really.

These guys really need a hobby.

"Show's over kids." Logan, as the Professor had called him, called from the kitchen doorway sounding none too happy with them.

Of course, I think he always sounds that way.

"Go find something to do or I'll find something for you to do."

You'd think that they all had super speed the way they scattered. Not that I can blame them. No one in their right mind would ever willingly get on Wolverine's bad side.

He jerked his head towards Xavier's office, brushing the remains of his meal off his hands "Chuck's waiting for ya, kid."

I nodded and went on my way.

At least this office doesn't have an X on the door, I thought one hand poised to knock.

"Come in, Ryan."

Telepaths suck.

Once again I found myself sitting before Xavier - the first time in the two days I had been here. Beast sat next to me scribbling notes furiously on his clipboard. Both had interest written across their faces. One tempered with enthusiasm, the other with a somber overcast.

Care to guess which had which?

"First I must say that you did very well for your first time in the Danger Room. Extraordinarily so." Professor Xavier leaned forward, lacing his fingers together "Where did you learn hand to hand techniques, Ryan?"

You think they could have asked _before_ the session.

"My uncle Hugh started teaching me how to fight when I was five years old. Liutentenant Colonel Hugh Reynolds." I couldn't help grinning and tapping my foot at the memories of that old man "He's Mother's uncle."

"Your great uncle taught you how to defend yourself?" Xavier sounded almost surprised as if he had not been reading my mind.

Perhaps he wasn't but I can't trust someone who can read my every thought.

"My goodness! The man must be in his sixties at the very least." exclaimed Dr. McCoy - who's astonishment I am far more inclined to believe.

I wonder if they'd be this excited if I told them that the Colonel is a lunatic? A seventy-two year old man getting you up at five every morning for that ten mile run is a little unusual.

Lazily eyeing a cardinal perched outside the window I halfheartedly replied to their questions - mostly about my health, exercise regimen, eating habits, etc. It was like a doctor's interview.

Without the turn your head and cough routine anyway.

Half an hour later they got to the interesting, and disturbing, lines of conversation.

Professor Xavier, relaxing now with a cup of coffee by the window, watched something below the window's edge but his mind remained on me.

"Beast and I have come to the same opinion, Mr. Winters. We would have you join a new team of the X-Men consisting of several new students. All close to your age. All possessed of remarkable talents."

Clipboard, for once, set down Dr. McCoy watched me with an intent gleam from amidst the azure fur of his visage "I think you should consider this offer heavily. The chance to train your abilities to their maximum potential is not one to lightly cast aside. Practice makes perfect and nowhere can one learn their worth better than in defense of mankind."

Shifting forward I placed my forearms upon my lap face carefully frozen. The offer is not unexpected but it is most certainly unwelcome. How can one expect me to go off galivanting and fighting the good fight? I am no hero. I just want control.

Of course what I said was significantly less eloquent.

"What a crock of shit!" both sat stock still at the vehement proclamation "You want me to be the knight in shining spandex? Go fight the Brotherhood and this Magneto guy? You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

Silenced reigned for several moments as they swallowed my words.

The Professor spoke crisply "I assure we are not kidding you. We take our role quite seriously and - as I respect your opinion - I ask that you respect our decisions as well."

I think I touched a nerve with that one. Poor sod.

"Yes. Well," Beast spoke quickly and soothingly as if to defuse the situation "perhaps it is still too early to expect such things from Mr. Winters. He has only recently arrived and has had precious little time to settle in. Let us leave this matter till a future day wherein we are all in a better temper."

In other words - till I can be civil. I don't give a rat's ass if they don't like the way I talk. Or act, for that matter.

"Yes. Perhaps that would be for the best, Hank." Xavier said wearily as he massaged his temples "You may go, Ryan."

"Aye, Captain."

Who says I know nothing of diplomacy?

Nodding my farewell of Beast I left. I did not make it as far as I had hoped.

"Hey, kid."

Wolverine sat alone on one of the sofas in the rec room, a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. I still don't know why he dresses like the Bounty paper towels guy.

"I heard what you said and you're right. It all sounds like a crock full of it." he paused to take a drink "I didn't buy the hero bit either when I first came here. Still don't most days but it's not about being a hero. It's about caring enough about something to fight for it. To protect it with everything you've got. Even if you have to spill your guts for it."

Logan craned his head to look me in the eyes "Take it from an old Canuck, bub. With power like yours you will have to fight some day. Whether or not it's on your terms is the choice. Think about it."

With that he went back to his shows and left me standing there wrapped in my thoughts. Thoughts turned now to the reality of my powers and the chains they bound me in.

As the old saying goes, with great power comes great responsibility. How true that would seem so shortly. Much to my sorrow.


	3. The Joys Continue

Chapter III - The Joys Continue...

Does Xavier hear a word I say? I said no to being an X-Man, yet here I am being introduced to my team.

Oh he said they're just my training partners but I know a team when I see one.

To my left in our little circle sat our resident exchange students - Shiro Yoshida, a Japanese youth rigid with the honor and pride the world expects of them, and Elizabeth "Betsy" Braddock, an alluring English beauty dressed in semi-military fashion. To my right sit two indigenous students - John Forge, a Cheyenne boy dressed straight out of the seventies, and Jennifer Stavros, a Greek goddess with platinum hair from Atlantic City. All were within a year, behind or ahead, of my age.

"What's the meaning of this, Xavier?" I wonder if I ever sound less than hostile? Consensus would probably not be in my favor.

Professor Xavier sighed, brushing a hand over his eyes.

"I did reject your offer didn't I?"

"Why don't you let the Professor speak? I am sure he has gathered us for a reason." Betsy's crisp words snapped with irritation.

As if she has reason to be irritated.

"It's that very reason that I object to."

Ms. Braddock leaned forward, ice blue eyes boring into me, and spoke sharply "You impatient wanker! How can you be this rude to the man taking care of you?"

All three of our supposed training partners watched with varied faces - Shiro and John both frowned as an amused smile flitted over Jennifer's lips.

"Children, please!" Xavier burst out tearing us away from our forming conflict and bringing all five sets of eyes to rest on him "Conflict gets us nowhere."

Betsy nodded as I simply, but eloquently, grunted "Whatever."

"Your fears are baseless, Mr. Winters. I do not intend for this to be a team in anything other than training. You can release your hostility - at least in that one respect."

I know a team when I see one, Chuck.

Stavros stretched long runner's legs before speaking the thought hiding behind her near colorless eyes "This should be interesting."

"I don't know if I'd call it that. These cats are a little crazed." Forge broke in.

Did he just call us cats? How did I get stuck with the mutant reject from Welcome Back Kotter?

"Ryan has had difficulties adjusting, Forge. His gift is most ...frustrating for him." Why don't you just hand my dossier over, Xavier? It would save time. " And, Ms. Braddock?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Try to forgive him. He and I have had troubles seeing eye to eye but that is no cause for the two of you to be on bad terms." he tried to sound magnanamous but only managed pompous.

When did this become Apologize For Ryan Day?

"Sounds like you've made quite an impression here, honey."

Turning I locked eyes with Ms. Stavros, whose stunning features lurked mere inches away.

"I try."

A gentle husky laugh escaped her.

Hm. Perhaps this team thing might not be so bad.

Xavier cleared his throat to get our attention "I would suggest that the five of you get to know one another before you start your real training. Logan, Hank, or I will inform when the schedule is set."

"What kind of training, Professor Xavier?" Shiro had less of an accent than I thought he would. Almost perfect actually.

"Personal and group Danger Room sessions."

He had been going to say more but I interrupted him "Group Danger Room sessions?! Are you insane? We aren't X-Men! What reason could we possibly have for group combat training?"

"Do you enjoy deriding those trying to help you?"

Just outside the sitting room doors stood a core group of Xavier's precious X-Men. Scott Summers, trying hard to look like a good little Nazi...oops, I mean X-Man. And the speaker, Jean Grey.

"Do you enjoy talking out of your ass?" Hostility for all. I've got plenty today.

Scott stepped between Jean and I, hands outstretched "Whoa, you two. Fighting does none of us any good."

Oh great, an Xavier clone.

"He's done nothing but insult the Professor since he got here! Not to mention everyone else he comes across..." Seems little Miss Perfect is still a little pissed. Poor baby.

"Come on, Jean. Let's leave them alone. I'm sure he'll come around once he gets used to being here." the rest of his words faded away as they left.

Jennifer watched me out of the corner of her eye "You've really done a number on the people around here."

"I can't help it. I'm allergic to assholes." Her outpouring of laughter brought a grin to my lips.

See, I'm not entirely anti-social.

On the far side of a quiet Xavier, the foreign students were discussing something. From their glances they are probably talking about me. Not approvingly either.

"Are we done here, Xavier?"

Once again he sighed "Yes."

"Good." I stood and looked over at Ms. Stavros "I'm headed for lunch. Care to join?"

"Sounds fun." How did she manage to appear so damned enticing wearing a grey sweat shirt and old jeans?

The kitchen, at least, was devoid of idiots as only Logan sat in there. A beer in hand, he listened to the old country playing on the radio.

"So, kid, found someone ya don't mind talkin' to?" In anyone else that countryfied Canadian accent might have gotten a barbed comment from me but him I respect.

"Yeah. Had to happen eventually." I sent a look over my shoulder at Jennifer "Statistically speaking."

Unlike most of the others she didn't seem too put off by Logan's rather fierce manner. A little hesitant as she entered the room but nothing more.

"Jennifer Stavros meet Logan. Also known as Wolverine." They nodded at each other.

Lunch passed easily with light chatter and much laughter. Wolverine even made a joke before leaving. All in all it was the best two hours I'd spent since I got here.

I learned much of Jennifer "Roulette" Stavros - 16 years old, born and raised in Atlantic City, an avid card player since she was 6, and possessing the ability to generate discs that altered probability. Or luck for those of a more common bent. Her parents had discussed Xavier's offer with her and all had agreed that this would be best for her.

Lucky her.

In turn she learned my story from car wreck to leaving for the Institute. If some of the details of my conversations with Mother, Jean, or Xavier didn't make it into the retelling was purely an aesthetic choice. Even my Danger Room session came up and the aftermath.

"He actually invited you to join the X-Men?" sheer amused incredulity suffused her every word.

Apparently, I'm not the only one who finds that absurd.

"It was not his best moment." Not that I had seen too many good moments from Xavier.

She took a drink - sweet tea only for her - before getting to her feet "Sorry, honey, but I gotta go finish settling in. I'll catch ya later."

I nodded as Roulette swept past keeping my eyes focused on the Coke can in front of me.

It never goes well if the girl catches you staring at her ass. Even if it is a great ass.

Leaving the kitchen myself I made my way towards my favorite room in the mansion - the library but such was not to be.

A soft bamf resounded from directly behind me followed immediately by a thick, excited German accent "Hi, I'm Kurt Wagner!"

Turning I caught a sight of a young man with blue hair and one hand outstretched.

Where the hell did he come from?

The carefree smile on his face faltered a trifle under my shade screened gaze. Even in a good mood I show little emotion on my roughly hewn features. It doesn't help people relations.

He retracted his hand slowly as if used to rejection "I'm sorry...I'll leave you alone..."

Before he could leave in the manner he came - whatever manner that happened to be - I spoke "My name's Ryan. Ryan Winters."

He spun, a huge grin on his face "That is so cool. Winters."

I couldn't help but laugh at the exhilirated exclamation. True good nature is infectious - though whether it makes you laugh or vomit is up to you.

Kurt went on for several minutes - most of which was lost on me. High speed blather with German accent served to keep me confused. Sounded friendly enough.

"We should so totally go out for chili burgers some time." Wonder if he talks this way to every one?

"Kurt!"

Down the hall came the original resident wearer of the shades, and king of the Let's-Kiss-Professor Xavier's-Ass Club, Scott Summers. Oh joy of joys.

"Aren't you supposed to be giving him a message?" Even Cyke's speech seemed modeled after the Professor.

As if one wasn't enough.

"Oh yeah!" Kurt slapped himself on the forehead "Beast wants to see you in the lab. Said it's something about your powers."

Riddilin helps so many too.

"Thanks, Kurt." I'd thank Scott too if he didn't have that pine tree crammed up his ass. Then again, maybe my prejudice is showing.

No one interrupted this journey at least.

In the bowels of the mansion I found Beast surrounded by the technological buffet of his lab - part infirmary, part genetics lab, and part mad science experiment. A ferret would go insane amongst the multitude of shiny objects.

I need to remember that one.

"You sent for me?"

Beast spoke without turning from the table and whatever he was so intently working on "Indeed I did, my young friend. The device on which I work may hold the key to controlling your chronological seizures."

"You mean no more fits?"

Good news, hopefully.

A brief sizzling noise and the smell of singed fur did not inspire confidence. The lack of any kind of reaction on McCoy's part worried me more.

"If it works correctly but their are no guarantees in this, Ryan. The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry."

I wish I had a quote a day callendar too.

"Voila!" Beast whirled holding up what seemed to be a collection of metallic pads and wires. More part of a torture device than an aid.

"How?"

"This pad," he held up a pad nearly two inches across "attaches at the base of your skull using vacuum suction. The three other pads will be placed at each temple and the crown of the head. Each connecting strip is high tensile vibranium."

Well that explained one of the hows.

"How does it work, Dr. McCoy?"

"It is a modified version of a device Charles and I designed to help Jean with her psionic abilities when she first came here. We call it a psionic inhibitor." he paused as if gathering his thoughts "The vibranium grid acts as a noetic glove firmly keeping the quantum waves associated with psionic ability in check."

Keep nodding as if I understand every word. Noetic glove? Quantum waves?

"Any side effects I should worry about?"

Winters Rule #2 - There is always a catch and if you don't see one, worry.

"A very good question, my curious friend."

That's a bad sign.

Beast ushered me into lightly padded metal chair and prepped the inhibitor. Mostly adjusting the length of the straps and whatnot.

"Once you start wearing this you must take it off only under my or Charles' supervision. The quantum waves will build over time and removing it will send you spiraling into a grand mal temporal seizure."

Of course, he says this only as he's fitting the last pad on.

"Instead of multiple episodes then, I save them up for one big one?"

You've got to love short-term fixes.

"You prefer the alternative?"

He's got a point. Now to see if I can learn to control these powers so I don't need the device.

If...

**Dear Mother,**

**I hope you're enjoying yourself. Most of these people are insane or assholes. The Professor and I are still having difficulty agreeing on anything. Ms. Munroe spends too much time on her nephew Evan(what a pudwacker) for me to have gotten to know her. A few of the students have gotten on my bad side - Scott, hereby referred to as mini-Professor, and Jean mostly. I don't think Betsy likes me too much but I find myself unable to give a rat's ass.**

**But it could be worse. Between Shiro and Logan, I never lack a sparring partner (or, in Logan's case, someone to beat my ass). Kurt's a good guy, if a little excitable, but he spends most of his time with Kitty (why must she be a valley girl?) and Rogue (she and I have talked a few times despite her gothesque view on life). Most of my free time is spent with Forge, Roulette, and Beast. Forge might lose me from time to time in techno-babble but he's good. Beast is awesome.**

**Imagine a giant blue teddy bear with more degrees than I ever dreamed of who quotes someone famous everytime he speaks. Kinda freaked me out at first too.**

**Roulette and I spend a lot of time together. Especially since we discovered that neither one of us minds cheating at games of chance. Due to our fundraising efforts, my collection of wargames has risen substantially as has her wardrobe.**

**Tell Annah I said hi. I don't know if I'll see you guys again before Christmas.**

**Catch you later.**

**- an email from Winterlord987 to**

**MotherWinter311**


	4. Catseye, Part 1

Chapter IV - Catseye, part 1

October 2nd (1 month later)

"Move your ass, Sunfire!"

I really hate the Danger Room.

Shiro Yoshida - named Sunfire for his ability to generate intense heat and flame - dodged the electrical blasts in a fine display of aerial control.

To the right of me Psylocke attempted to defeat generated mutant badguy (hereafter referred to as GMBs) A. Forge and Roulette were nowhere to be seen - hopefully doing their part to disable the bomb located behind the opposition as per the objective. Sunfire distracted GMB B despite the fact that he was supposed to be defeating him.

Of course all I did was shout orders till GMB C decided to notice me.

This one appeared as the others did - average build and height, male, and covered head to toe in an odd purplish bodysuit.

A possessed superhuman strength and toughness. B could toss bolts of electricity. Wonder what powers this one's programmed with.

I had to ask.

Whip-like tendrils extended from the back of his forearms which he promptly began waving back and forth.

The first lash caught nothing but air as I slid aside in a temporal blur. His following barrage never touched me but it did serve to keep me at whip's length. However, I have learned a few tricks in the past month.

My right hand whipped out slingshotting a single ball bearing thru the edge of my event horizon and into bullet speeds. It bore a hole into the hollow of his throat.

The simulation abruptly ended as the intercom came on "If this had been a real fight, Singularity, that man would have been dead."

My "training partners" worked their ways towards me but said little. I think we argue too much for them to care.

"He was doing his best to kill me, Professor. That puts him at the top of my shit list." I folded my arms across my chest and focused my attention on the control room "There is no room for hesitation in battle."

"Ryan, come to the control room. The rest of you can leave. You did very well."

As they filed out Forge patted my shoulder and Roulette tossed an amused smile my way. Betsy pointedly looked away never having grown very fond of me but I can't say much about it besides the truth -she's a ball busting bitch. Shaking his head Sunfire just walked right past me.

A moment later I stood before Wolverine and an unhappy Professor. Poor sod.

"What exactly do you think we are trying to teach you here?"

"I'd say you were trying to teach us to fight with honor and responsibility." he started to nod but I continued "And how to lose."

"He's got ya there, Chuck."

Both of us turned towards Wolverine. He just took a drag of the cigar and spoke around it.

"I've been tellin' ya that for years. Being merciful's all well and good but you worry about it after the fight. Not in the middle of it."

"Regardless, Logan, I will not teach the children how to kill!" Xavier brought his fist down on the arm of his wheelchair with a heavy thump "They are not soldiers!"

"Could've fooled me, Xavier." How could he see us as anything else? "All you do is have us train in the Danger Room - before and after school. Occasionally, Beast or Storm will give us a lecture on the morality of using these powers but little else is done. You even have us fight when we have declined a position in your X-Men."

Definitively declined as a matter of fact.

He was silent, a troubled expression shadowing his face.

"What exactly do you expect of us? We aren't your precious X-Men. It's not our job to fight the good fight." Not exactly heroic but neither am I. Hence this conversation.

Before he could answer the intercom kicked on and Storm's voice came through "You have a call on line 3, Professor Xavier. Regarding a new mutant."

The Professor sighed "Excuse me for a moment." and left for the closest phone. It's a little too noisy - and a little too top secret - to have a phone in the Danger Room.

"Thought about what I said, kid?" Logan blew a cloud of smoke as if to emphasize the words.

How could I? He's the only one who makes sense around here.

"Yeah." collapsing into a chair brought a grunt as I hit the overly hard material "And I still don't think it's the right life for me. We can't all be heroes."

Dark eyes bore into me for a long moment before he spoke again "I don't think you've got a choice there, bub. You're like me - you won't let anyone fight your battles. That's what's gonna get you."

I'm not a hero.

"Just remember what I said. Your terms or theirs." he said just before leaving.

Another 15 minutes passed before Professor Xavier wheeled himself in but something was dearly wrong.

He was smiling.

"What are you smiling about, Xavier?" Damn, even I'm amazed at how hostile I am sometimes.

He kept smiling. Bad sign.

"How would you like a different type of training? One more ...people oriented." Why did his visage radiate smug - everything he did was smug technically but I felt it particularly strongly at the moment - amusement?

"Like what?"

"An educational trip. You, Wolverine, and one other of your choosing would be going to Daytona, Florida for a minimum of 4 days."

He still sounds cheerful. I must have missed some part of this deal. Winters Rule #2 and all.

"What's the catch?"

"You will be aiding, Logan, in the invitation of a young girl by the name of Sharon Smith. She has begun exhibiting signs of her mutation at the age of 6."

Is he asking what I think he is?

"You want me to go on a recruitment drive? _For you_?"

Xavier folded his hands "I think it will be a wonderful experience for you. No Danger Room. Just you and two others you respect."

Hmm.

"Logan will control the expenses."

Heh. Between Roulette and I there's money to burn.

"If you want to go, you will leave this afternoon in the Blackbird."

Time to clear up a few things.

"Let me get this straight." I mimicked his pose folding my hands before me "Wolverine does the talking and I sit off to the side being moral support?"

Annoyance wrinkled his forehead "I would hope that you will take a more ...active role but you will not be forced."

Daytona, huh?

"I'll go."

Time enough to deal with his true motives later. I've got a travel buddy to find and I think I know who would be perfect.

Here's hoping she doesn't make me flip for floor or bed.

**Daytona, Florida**

**6 hours later**

Roulette agrees with me, at least I definitely missed something.

Logan sat behind the wheel, glaring from beneath the rim of a cowboy hat at the other drivers as he chewed on a cigar. Still dressed like the Bounty Man though.

Jennifer wore a slight smile as she reclined in the SUV's back seat. How I love white t-shirts. Especially on gorgeous platinum tressed girls.

What can I say? I'm male.

At the moment she was still amused, and more than a little scandalized, by a story of my telling. Which doesn't bear repeating here or anywhere, for that matter.

"You didn't!"

"Yes, I did." a brief smile twisted my lips "Needless to say, I can't go back to that library."

Logan spoke around another in a seemingly endless line of cigars "I don't know which is funnier, kid. The story or that you might have actually done it."

It wouldn't have seemed so out of place before the accident. So much has changed in the three months since.

"When we get there you two sit quiet and pretend to be good role models."

"Pretend?" I'll bet that if I had that southern style, husky voice I could make any question sound obscene too.

His eyes flickered up to the rear view mirror "I know about what the two of you have been doing."

Jennifer and I shared similar looks of guilt - both briefly and then wonderingly as we stared at our chaperone.

If he knows what we've been doing why hasn't anyone put a stop to it?

"I didn't tell Chuck. Whatever the two of you get out the fools at school is your own buisiness." Was that a hint of a smile around the cigar?

Not much to say to that.

"We're here."

Time for the fun to begin.

The Smith residence is a two story brick monstrousity born out of that bizarre semi-retro styling common amongst pompous assholes. It had a white picket fence - a white picket fence- meant to keep wandering children or wandering perverts out. It's hard to tell which just by looking.

Logan's knock was neither gentle nor particularly friendly. Much like the knock used by feds or law enforcement when they intend on relocating you.

And Mrs. Smith did sound a little like someone afraid of just that.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

Friendly, isn't she?

We, the junior mutants of the Xavier Scout Troop, stood idly by while Wolverine - ever the most even tempered of us - tried "diplomacy".

I know. It's an alien word to me, too.

"I'm Mr. Logan, from the Xavier Institute." Did he just call himself Mr. Logan? "We're here because you called us, mam."

From the look on her face I'd say that wasn't the most reassuring thing she's ever heard. Not that I blame her. It wasn't exactly a party for me either.

"Who are they?" I'm going to ignore the finger so rudely pointed at us. This time.

"Two of our students." Somehow he's managing to sound surly even while being polite. I've got to learn how to do that "This is Ryan Winters and Jennifer Stavros."

The strain should be showing. I've never heard him go this long without saying 'bub' or 'kid'.

"Elizabeth, who is it?" someone - I'd put my money on either Col. Smith or the milkman and I know which would be more entertaing - called from inside.

Whatever she said back to him didn't make it to my ears but Logan growled softly so it must be good. I'll have to ask him later.

Mrs. Smith turned back to us with a plastic smile in place "Please come in."

I think only Roulette had the courtesy to say thank you when she opened the door for us. But, honestly, if Xavier wanted diplomacy he wouldn't have sent Logan and I.

The little Mrs. led us down a short hall covered in the sort of family photo collection that made you want to retch. Fishing, Disneyland, the beach, and a hundred other things had been chronicled in photo by a woman with nothing better to do, apparently. Almost every picture contained the Mr. Mrs. with a little girl obviously their daughter.

Takes after her mother - same blond haired, blue eyed cookie cutter looks that's all the rage.

In the living room - a living room devoid of photos I might add - Colonel Jonathan Smith jerked to his feet as if his strings had been pulled. A middle aged darkly complected man with a hard appearance like that asshole gym teacher everybody has (and if you don't have one, get one. There's a quota.).

Another round of introductions later we were all seated on various pieces of furniture - Roulette and Logan got single chairs while I got stuck on the sofa next to Corporal Punisment. Which is what I'm beginning to think this whole trip might be. - and preceding straight to the fun parts of the conversation.

"What is your daughter's mutation?"

Ahh...discretion. Thy name is Logan.

Mrs. "Please call me Sharon" Smith started to protest but the Colonel cut her off "She changes."

Is it bad that I want to ask if they have any fried chicken?

Since no one else could hear my internal deprecating comments they were actually paying attention. Logan and Roulette wore similar looks of interest as they lounged in their single chairs.

"What do you mean?" Jennifer spoke up making her the first troop member to do so since we got here. I think there's a badge for that but I'm still holding out for that pretty asshole of the year badge.

Mr. Smith continued "She can turn into a cat."

Interesting. Is she toilet trained or does she use a litter box?

What followed was a long an incredibly boring conversation giving details of her mutation and of the Institute. Mostly, they just seemed to agree to meet tomorrow at the park after she got back from her Grandmother's.

Farewells were said and off we went without a backward glance. Tomorrow would provide enough reasons to worry.

**Inside the Smith House**

Col. Smith listened to it ring twice before the man on the other end picked up and he spoke two words before hanging up.

"They're here."


End file.
